The blade has no sense of hate,
Nor can a gun or its bullet
An enemy make
Hands are directed by
Evils ominous plan…
Tearing and thrashing,
Delivering brutal blows to
Their fellow man
Blood spilled for vengeance,
Greed, power or envy…
From the beginning of time,
Vain notion of superiority…
The tragic human fallacy
Dwelling much deeper
Than the pigment of skin,
More intricate than dialect,
Global location or
Disparity of religion
The color of hate
Has no tincture at all
It’s the beast of darkness
Occupying anguished barren souls
©Leatherman 2013
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